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even if you have not. Her husband is playing a noble role here." |
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"But nothing is going forward now," Lady Ela whimpered after the barest moment of hesitation. "And I do not believe Lady Alinor is large enough to keep the wind off me. I feel a dreadful stiffness in my arm already. Ah! A twinge! I feel a twinge in my side!" |
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A hysterical giggle rose in Alinor's throat, and she quenched it sternly. "Perhaps if I sit a little closer to you, Lady Ela, I will be able to warm you somewhat," she suggested. |
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Ian dismounted when he reached the head of the lists and looked toward the loges, the rein loose in his hand. Before his eyes found what they sought, the rein jerked and there was a shriek of consternation behind him. The evil-tempered gray destrier had launched a vicious kick at someone who had passed unwisely close to his heels. Uttering a resounding oath, Ian grabbed the bridle and hung on to it, forstalling an attempt to rear, while he brought the loose end of the rein up to slap the nose of the stallion as it snapped at his arm. |
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"A very spirited beast," Salisbury remarked, strolling over. |
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"Lord Rannulf's strain," Ian grunted, holding the rein under the animal's lower jaw in a determined grip. "I swear the devil sired each and every one, but they know their business and are strong in work." |
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"He will need to be," Salisbury said drily. "You are remarkably popular for a man who is not famous as a jouster." |
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"What?" Ian asked distractedly, wrestling with his recalcitrant mount. |
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"I said your horse will need to be strong in work. There is a list as long as my arm that wish to joust against you." |
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Snorting and stamping, the gray destrier at last gave |
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